


1 Month&10 Days

by zmaj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8505226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zmaj/pseuds/zmaj
Summary: “I was just imagining us in ten years and I realised it is not that different from the present."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I want this summer to never end, so I wrote some pointless fluff.

“Do you need a ride?”

Tooru looks up, sun in his hair, mischief in his eyes. He puts his sunglasses down and grins, “You would break the law for me?”

Hajime shrugs, pushes the pedal and starts driving away.

“No, wait! Iwa-chan, stop!”

He can’t stop the smile spreading on his face as he hears Tooru grabbing his things and running after him. He slows down but doesn’t stop. He looks back, and there it is. His favourite sight. Tooru in his flip-flops and shorts, his sunglasses in one hand and with another holding a bag he barely put on his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean like that, wait!”

Hajime stops, waiting for Tooru to catch up to him. He pretends to think a while and then nods,

“No, you’re right. Two adults cannot ride one bike at the same time. Lucky for you, there is only one adult here.”

Tooru huffs, hands already on Hajime’s shoulders. “That’s mean even for you. Forty days is nothing.”

Hajime looks up at the beautiful bright sky. Forty days is _everything._ Smile brightens up his face as he tells Tooru to hold on tight. Tooru leans his chin on his shoulder, breathing in his ear, just to be extra annoying. Hajime doesn’t really mind it any more. He wonders if he ever minded it at all.

This is how the story goes: 40 days is 1 month and 10 days of summer, 960 hours of vacations and 57 600 minutes to spend with Tooru. Seconds fly as fast as those annoying mosquitoes that love Hajime as much as sun rays do. The school might be over, but this is not the end for them. Merely a new beginning and an opportunity to grow. Before that, however, life is in their hands and it pumps excitement through their veins.

Summer sun dusts their cheeks with tan and their backs with light burn. Later, Tooru will complain about it and Hajime will apply oil and scold him for being as reckless as ever. Now, Hajime runs after laughing Tooru who won’t give him sunscreen tube. He throws it the second before he jumps into the water. Hajime doesn’t spare a glance at anything but Tooru and jumps after him. Just another thing they always did. _Together._ Water is just a little too cold to be pleasant, but he won’t lose to Tooru who acts as if sea is his second home.

“Catch me,” he grins at Hajime and disappears under the water. Instead of going after him, Hajime waits, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply before he feels hand grabbing at his ankle. He knows how it goes.

Tooru is big eyes and bubbles of air running out of his mouth when he smiles underwater and Hajime’s chest burns. He looks like a big fish and his hair is a mess but to Hajime he looks gorgeous. They come up for air together, and Tooru’s hands wrap around his waist. He’s still smiling, his hair in his eyes. His forehead hits Hajime’s shoulder.

“You okay?” Hajime asks.

“Just hold me.”

“We’re both gonna go down like this,” Hajime grumbles, his hands bringing him just a little closer.

“I would go down with you.”

“Go down on me instead.”

Hajime laughs when Tooru pushes him away and kicks his thigh. “Disgusting!” Tooru yells, splashing Hajime.

Hajime swims after him, hands wrapping around Tooru’s chest. In water, their height difference hardly matters. He presses his lips against his nape and murmurs, “I won’t tell you to stop worrying.”

“Your kisses are telling me different things.”

“Is it working?”

Tooru turns around, his forehead touching Hajime’s. “Keep trying,” he whispers against his lips.

Hajime does. He kisses little scar under his ear, mole on his chin, his nose. Despite unclear future ahead, Tooru smells of sea, sunscreen and happiness. His eyes are closed and he’s unsuccessfully trying to hide his grin when Hajime’s lips tickle his neck.

“You wanna grab something to eat?” Hajime asks him.

Tooru shakes his head. “No. Maybe.”

He makes no effort to move. He laughs as Hajime pinches him and puts  hand on his belly, pushing him to move. At last, he does, challenging Hajime to race him. The winner picks up place, Tooru pays (but only because Hajime took him out the day before).

The winner, of course, is Tooru. While he picks up his clothes and towel, he teases about picking up the most expensive restaurant in town.

“But that’s where we had dinner yesterday.” Hajime says, eyebrows rising.

“Oh, second most expensive, then.”

“Oikawa Tooru is satisfied with the second choice?”

Tooru grins, his eyes crinkling. “Only because you are my first.”

Hajime’s mouth drop as he drags hands down his face. Tooru’s teasing, that’s something he knows how to deal with. This? Tooru being extra affectionate is another level. It is not that he wasn’t like that before. It is just that they are alone and he is still the very same loud and obnoxious Tooru Hajime knows. At the same time, however he is also painfully sincere and all kinds of wonderful. He takes Hajime's hand in his without a single drop of shame, kisses him on his cheek and holds him as if he is the most precious person in the room. Hajime doesn’t really have a word to describe how much he adores him.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” he says at last, his face turning red.

“I know,” Tooru says, kissing his hair.

His hand is warm between Hajime’s shoulder blades and his soft chatter blocks out all worries in Hajime’s head.

“How does chicken sound like?” he asks.

Tooru pretends to think for the longest time, until Hajime stops and frowns.

“Well?”

Tooru kisses his nose, beaming up when Hajime scrunches his face in fake disgust.

“If you insist.”

Hajime scoffs and Tooru laughs. “You know the answer, Hajime. You’re not _that_ thick.”

Hajime nods, walking away. “You would know.”

Tooru’s laugh grows louder and Hajime doesn’t have it in him to stop him. He likes Tooru happy, after all. Even if it’s for the sake of teasing. He takes Hajime’s hand in his, whispering _indeed_ in his ear. It is only 5 in the afternoon, but the sun is already low on the horizon and it never ceases to amaze Hajime how easily glow comes to Tooru. He’s just like that. Bright, dazzling. His.

He lets Hajime pamper him through their dinner, asking for refill and stealing his food despite their identical order. Hajime bats him away, but he always finds his way to Hajime’s plate. It is speciality of his, he supposes. Wiggling his way into every aspect of his life. At this point, everything in Hajime’s life is simpler to just call theirs.

The pleasant buzz of half empty restaurant allows them to linger a little longer than they are used to. Tooru leans back, his feet brushing against Hajime’s thighs. Even checking his phone, Tooru’s reaction is so lively Hajime could watch him forever. He chuckles in one moment, scrunches his face in another. Hajime wants to watch him _forever._ Tooru looks up and Hajime is hooked. He leans across the table, putting their plates together.

“We will have this even when the new school year starts, right?”

Hajime flicks his forehead and Tooru whines. “Who’s thick now?”

“Rude.” Tooru grumbles, his lips turning into a slow smile. Hajime is no artist, but he takes special pride in painting smiles on Tooru’s face. The feeling is the same as when he hits the ball Tooru sends to him.

“I expect you to visit me as much as your busy schedule will allow it. Like every week or something.”

Hajime grabs Tooru’s ankle under the table. He doesn’t let go, but his grip is not strong. Tooru could just pull away, if he wanted. He doesn’t. “Likewise.”

“What about in 10 years?”

“What about?”

Tooru leans his chin on his hands, his eyes closed. ”I want you spend time with you even after you get old and bald.”

Hajime pinches him. “What makes you think I will be the bald one?”

Tooru grins, all teeth and surrender. Hajime’s chest hurts in a familiar way.

“I’m not letting you go,” he tells Tooru.

“I’m not letting us go.”

This is how it goes: No matter how fast Hajime runs, no matter how strong he gets, no matter how stubborn he is, in the end Tooru will always be a beat quicker. Just like that game when you say _add one._ Tooru is his one. The one. And the winning answer is that Hajime doesn’t plan to let them go either.

“I have a plan for us,” Tooru says, “you finish your studies, I finish mine. Then, we see what the future holds for us. Perhaps you will find a job abroad and I will play for the national team. We jump in and we do it together.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Hajime says. _It makes perfect sense._

Tooru hums his eyes turning serious. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Hajime’s hands find his across the table and he holds them instead of answering with words. It matters but they will be fine, they always are. No matter what, they belong together. Distance  or time means nothing. They are just numbers. What he feels for Tooru, however, is not made up. There isn’t a word that fits his feelings for him, but it is not as if he is trying to find one. One lifetime is short enough as it is, Hajime doesn’t plan to spend it finding something that isn’t here.

“Shall we go?” Tooru asks, standing up.

Hajime tries to protest when Tooru opens his wallet, but he is powerless against Tooru who already charmed cashier and chief that is smiling up at him. When they leave, Hajime is carrying a piece of cheesecake that she gifted Tooru with for good luck.

Tooru’s hand is wrapped around his waist as they walk side by side, Hajime guiding his bike.

“What?” Tooru asks when he catches Hajime staring up at him.

“Nothing.”

Tooru chuckles, kissing his temple. “I’m not nothing, Hajime.”

Hajime agrees. They wait for the light turn green and he watches the red reflecting on Tooru’s cheeks. With next words, he makes it stay even when the traffic light changes.

“You’re everything.”

Tooru squeezes his side, his smile widening. “You _are_ getting old, aren’t you?”

“Just 40 days older than you. Seems to me we’re ageing together.”

It is a shy, tiny thought. Not finished up just yet, but it is there, solid and warm. Few winters wiser, few summers more experienced in life. Tooru, dressed in ridiculous sweater and his hair a little bit shorter. Wearing glasses, perhaps. There is a sofa and Hajime’s head on Tooru’s lap, his eyes closed. It is a wish, but it is also, Hajime realises, what they already have. What he wishes for has been by his side all along.

Tooru leans on his shoulder. “Your brain will die if you think too much, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime pushes him away for a second, just enough so that Tooru whines. His head is back on Hajime’s shoulder in no time, and their arms bring each other closer at once.

“I was just imagining us in ten years and I realised it is not that different from the present.”

Tooru hums. “So it means I won’t age at all? Be one of those _‘doctors hate him, he is fifty but he looks like twenty-Iwa chan, ow!_ ”

“Do you ever control your mouth or do things like that just come out by themselves?”

Tooru’s chuckle warms up  Hajime’s neck. “Oh, I can control my mouth.”

Hajime pushes Tooru away, almost dropping the bicycle in the process.

He laughs right back at him, his hands catching Hajime’s shirt, pulling him closer. Hajime follows. The bicycle falls on the ground.

Tooru takes one step back, his eyes challenging him. “Wanna see?”

They are like push-pull, Tooru leads, Hajime follows. Hajime takes one step closer, his eyes on Tooru’s lips. “See what?”

He pushes Tooru back, his hands on Tooru’s abdomen.  One, two steps and Tooru hits the front of a vending machine. He lets out a surprised _oh._ And then: “I’m thirsty.”

He turns around, checking his pockets for money. Hajime is quicker, inserting a 100 yen coin into the slot. He leans closer, his chest hitting Tooru’s back. “Your move.”

Tooru chuckles, but Hajime catches the string of nervousness. He’s pressing the number 6--not even his preferred drink, just _iced kocha_ , but his hands don’t shake like Hajime’s do. He pulls up Hajime’s bicycle and sits on it. At this point, his grin is wide and dangerous and his eyes promise Hajime payback.

Hajime is game if Tooru is. He is.

“You wanna ride?”

Hajime laughs and pulls him down, pressing lips against his forehead. He settles behind him, arms wrapped around Tooru’s middle.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, critique, pointing out mistakes (thank you Maria!), everything is warmly appreciated!  
> Also, if anyone is willing to edit/beta something longer, please hmu.


End file.
